These Wicked Games
by KestrelMoonfayre
Summary: David has returned to Santa Carla, only to find that he's not the only thing hunting the boardwalk at night now. When a couple of the wannabe punks piss him off in his territory, he settles the score. Now the meanest gang in town is out for blood and David's in for a fight. Eventual David/OC.


¡ADVERTENCIA! WARNING! Graphic scenes and adult language lay ahead. YOU HAVE BEEN FOREWARNED.

_I do not claim ownership of David or _The Lost Boys_. Both belong to Joel Schumacher and Warner Bro. Entertainment Inc., who I hope will either be gracious enough to let me have my play or be gentle in their chastising of a desperate fan girl. My OC are of course mine however!_

_The long author's note below hopefully explains any questions that arise for the first chapter. If not, feel free to PM me or just ask in a review._

_Also, I will be giving a list of songs at the beginning of each chapter that I feel sets the mood for what's happening. It's my way of helping everyone really enjoy what their reading, so I recommend that you listen to them as you do so!_

_Song for this chapter is Night Songs by Cinderella. The song I imagine playing on the boardwalk speakers is Walk by Foo Fighters, and the song playing at the bar is Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival._

**Chapter One: Homecoming**

The Santa Carla Boardwalk was crowded, as it was almost every day of the summer season. The sun had set hours before, but no one below cared. Lights were everywhere. The length of the walk was lit by dim street lights, most with broken or missing glass covers. Bright neon signs hung in every window and on every wall and door. Some stores even had strings of colorful lanterns leading between them, catching the eye and leading the passerby inside.

The rides were covered in their fair share too. A golden path snaking along until it met itself again illuminated the roller coaster. Stars, swirls, and hypnotic circles in purple and green flew along the Ferris wheel spokes. The flashing lights of over a hundred rides shined on in every color of the rainbow, blurring the line between darkness and light.

Speakers attached to the light poles blasted the music of a well known band, competing with the din of a thousand voices. The blaring music and carnival tunes, screams from the rides, laughter from the teens taunting people walking by, and conversations yelled over it all melted into something sounding like a roar to the sensitive ears of the man silently observing everything.

In the dim recess of a t-shirt store's roof a shadow went unnoticed by the sea of people below. David sat above it all, idly smoking a cigarette and relaxing against the rough shingles. He took a long drag and the tip glowed cherry red before he stubbed it out on the grit beside him. The smoke drifted around him, clinging like a child to its parent, until he waved a hand. A sudden breeze cut through the still of the summer night and swept it away.

Sitting up, David squinted past the glow of the boardwalk to look out at the beach. He inhaled deep, drawing in the air that he hadn't breathed for so long. The scents of humanity mixed together with fast food and the salty ocean air filled his nose and he smiled. Twenty six years and it still hadn't lost its familiarity.

He was home.

A home that he had almost lost forever.

He turned his gaze in the direction of Hudson's Bluff, invisible through the trees in the distance, but he knew all the same where it was. Marko had died there. Staked by the little pricks Michael had found to help him out. The same ones who killed Paul and Dwayne.

The world flared red for a second as his vision sharpened and he felt his face harden. After all this time, he still couldn't think about his brother's deaths without a bitter rage taking him over. Even after hunting down and returning the favor to the bastards who had almost succeeded in killing him.

He could still hear Star's terrified screams echo in his mind. She'd been the first to die – betrayers should always die first. He'd only been 'dead' for six years when he'd hunted her down. It hadn't taken him much longer to hunt down the Frog Brothers. The stupid little shits hadn't even bothered to leave town. Two years after that, he tracked down Sam at a college in Phoenix. He didn't kill him right away. No, David had used him to find Michael.

Michael had been hiding out in a little town in Colorado working at a lumber yard. He hadn't found a girl yet, which was too bad, but Sam came in handy then. David let Michael feel just how bad it hurt to lose a brother before he killed him. He'd even staked him with the same set of horns. But unlike David, Michael wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

His face lost its feral edges and his sight dulled as he remembered Michael's tear soaked face and the raw agony in his screams as he died. David chuckled to himself as he picked his jacket up and rose easily. It wasn't hot enough that he'd get stared at for wearing it, so he went ahead and slipped it on. The tailor-made leather fit him perfectly. He still couldn't believe his luck on finding it – although it hadn't been lucky for the previous owner. After having antlers shoved through his chest though, he'd pretty much needed a new everything. It wasn't a big loss on the shirt, pants and boots. They could all be replaced easily.

The jacket had been different.

It had taken him twelve years to literally hunt down something that suited his style and fit. But as he walked over to the back edge of the roof and dropped silently to the ground, the leather flexing easily with the movement, he grinned at how worthwhile it was.

Thinking about the past always made David angry, and being angry made him want to see blood, so he set off in search of tonight's unlucky dinner. He slipped past the trash littering the small alley way between the shops and stepped out onto the boardwalk. From down here the stench and noise was more powerful, but he tuned it all out as he strolled on. He was only mildly interested in the humans on the main drag. Most of them had family to go home to or someone who would notice if they disappeared. The law up his ass was the last thing he needed, so he headed for the shadows and looked for the ones who had no home to go back to.

At the far end of the boardwalk the rides thinned out and restaurants and bars took the place of arcades and novelty shops. David ended up leaning against the railing separating the boardwalk from the beach, smoking another cigarette as he scanned the crowd. He was across from a bar and close to the pier, where he figured at least a few horny couples would venture off under. He was bound to find some easy blood around here tonight.

A woman caught his eye as she passed. She took one look at the cigarette dangling from his lips and curled her nose up in disgust. He took a drag and blew the smoke her way, smirking. Anger flashed across her eyes before she stomped quickly off, possibly in search of a cop. It didn't bother David much – she'd smelled too much of fear to actually call the cops on him.

The bar door opened with a blast of music and David caught some of the lyrics before a drunk guy and his girlfriend wobbled out. _"Hope you got your things together. Hope you are quite prepared to die." _He grinned to himself. It had been a while since he'd heard "Bad Moon Rising", but the song had always been a favorite of his. He was just sorry that the drunken couple stumbling by couldn't appreciate the irony. The dark haired man had his arm around his blonde girlfriend's waist, his hand slipped into the top of her jeans. Both smelled of alcohol and lust, and as they tripped their way down the stairs to the beach David knew he'd found tonight's meal.

With one last pull, he sucked his cigarette down and flicked it away. He didn't feel like wasting his time with the stairs, so he casually swung over the railing and jumped the five feet to the ground. The beach was empty. They didn't allow bon fires or burn barrels anymore and only the desperate or the stupid hung out after midnight on a new moon. Still, David didn't want to risk being seen by the people wandering about above him, so he hung to the dim shadows of the wall as he stalked the two drunks faltering steps.

His heart beat faster in anticipation of feeding. The rising exhilaration of bloodlust heightened his senses until he could almost taste the hot, sugary liquid as it filled his mouth. Ahead of him, the couple staggered on completely unaware of the demon hunting them. The man whispered dirty nothings into the blonde's ear and she giggled. They disappeared into the dark underside of the pier and David hung back a bit. If they were busy fooling around he'd have some breathing space between killing one and eating the other.

When the giggles and whispers quieted into kissing noises and soft moans, David slid into the shadows behind them and let the change take over. It was simple to find the oblivious couple in the gloom with his heightened eyesight.

The man didn't even know what hit him.

One second he was on top of his girlfriend, tongue stuffed down her throat as he fumbled with her bra, and in the next he was slammed head first into the sand with enough force something cracked. His girlfriend pushed herself up on her elbows. "Kyle?" she called uncertainly.

She yelped when David grabbed her arm and yanked her up against him. With one hand he pinned her arms between her chest and his. She opened her lips to scream, but he slapped his other hand over her mouth before she could even draw breath. Her eyes bugged out and she breathed hard through her nose as panic began to take over. Using the grip he had on her face, David tugged her head to the side to expose the racing vein in her neck and struck.

Razor-sharp fangs ripped through the flimsy skin of the woman's neck until the life-giving flow beneath was released. She struggled weakly against his hold, shredding her neck even farther. Scarlet blood spurted into and around his mouth, but he only buried his face deeper, swallowing the gushing stream.

A strangled gasp sounded behind him and he pulled back with a snarl. Dropping the woman, David spun to face her boyfriend. He'd thought he thrown the human hard enough to break his neck, but there he was, blood dripping from his nose and mouth as he tried to pull himself away. David flashed to his side and smashed a foot into his back, holding him in place as he reached down to grip his chin. With one sharp jerk backwards he ripped his head off. The air he had been gathering for a scream escaped his neck in a bubbling hiss as his lungs deflated. David held his head up by its dark hair and glanced at his frozen expression of horror before dropping it onto the sand.

"I hate screamers. Too fucking loud," he smirked at the half-dead woman on the sand as he crouched beside her, but it looked like she didn't get the joke. The smirk slid from his face and he growled low before latching once more onto her savaged neck. She didn't really fight back much after that, which made the feeding boring.

David pulled back and stood when the blood flow all but stopped. He wiped his face off with the back of his hand before wiping it on his pants. Bending down, he grabbed the man's hair and wrist in one hand and the woman's wrist with the other before dragging them both down to the edge of the ocean. Setting the man's head in the sand like a football, he kicked it as far as he could into the water. It sailed across the waves, falling in with a barely noticeable splash. After that, he grabbed the wrists' of the two corpses again and took to the sky. When he was about a mile out, let go and watched with a smile as they plummeted into the black water far below.

Satisfied that the sharks would take care of the rest, David retraced his steps. He flew low above the ground, using his wind to erase the drag marks. Underneath the pier he kicked up the soiled sand until you couldn't tell that anyone had ever lain there, much less died. Bloodlust temporarily sated, he started making his way back up to the boardwalk.

A group of teens could be heard on the walk above, laughing and cat calling at someone. David paused at the bottom of the stairs to dig into his front jacket pocket for his pack. He heard a girl tell them to fuck off; they laughed. Just as he was about to pull a cigarette out, the cracking sound of hand on cheek split the night and someone came scurrying down the stairs. He looked up in time to see a girl with dark hair and clothes dart by him, a group of guys on her tail that reeked of beer and something he hadn't smelt in a long time.

Wolf.

They hooted and hollered as they chased after the terrified girl, and it struck David that they weren't very old. They had run right by a vampire who had obviously been feeding in what they considered their territory and not even realized. It was also a new moon, the weakest time for any werewolf, and they were out playing around when they should have been holed up in their den.

One of them bumped into him as they rushed after the girl and David almost killed him right then and there. Werewolves were hunting… in _his_ territory. He crushed his cigarette pack. So intent were they on their sport, the five young wolves didn't even realize when he began following them.

"Hey! You don't think that you can get away with slapping Jordan like that, do ya?" One of the boys toward the front of the pack taunted.

The girl didn't bother with replying, she just kept running. David had to give it to her: she was fast. If the guys she was fleeing from had been human she probably would have escaped. Unfortunately for her, they were anything but human now. The werewolves could easily lope along behind her for hours, and already she was tiring. He could smell the adrenaline burning in her veins and the sweat coating her skin. Over it all lay the scent of fear and exhaustion. And it excited the wolves.

David couldn't blame them on that point though. If he hadn't have just feed he would have already caught her and drained her dry. Adrenaline did add a certain spiciness to the blood.

She almost made it to the next pier down from the one David had had his midnight snack under earlier when she tripped.

The wolves were on her in a second. She scrambled to stand back up, but the same one who had yelled out at her earlier grabbed her leg and yanked. She fell with a muffled thud and a curse. Another wolf grabbed her left arm and tugged, flipping her over to her back. The other wolves quickly grabbed her remaining arm and leg. She was pinned to the sand with her arms splayed like bug in a display case. Over it all stood the last werewolf – Jordan, David guessed – watching with a predatory grin as she struggled against their holds.

"You're gonna pay for hitting me, bitch." Jordan said as he moved to kneel over her, his hips straddling hers.

"Oh yeah? Fuck you and your little dogs too." She spit into his face.

Jordan's eyes glowed silver in the darkness of the pier as he lunged forward. He grabbed her face roughly between one hand, smashing her cheeks together, and leaned toward her face. "I could break your neck right now, you puny bitch," he growled, nose to nose with her. He trailed his other hand down her side until he reached the tender skin of her stomach and dug his fingers in. Her eyes tightened with pain but a no sound left her mouth. "Or I could just rip your belly open and spill your guts right here. I don't think you'd be so stubborn then." He shook her head back and forth.

David had seen enough. Besides, the combined scent of five excited werewolves was starting to make him sick. He melted slowly out of the shadows.

"You mutts wouldn't be hunting on my beach, would you?" He asked as he crossed his arms and rested a shoulder casually against the pillar next him.

The werewolves leapt to their feet as one and whirled to face him. Jordan moved to the head of the pack, the rest flanked him like geese. Even though the other wolves were deferring to him, David could tell that he wasn't the Alpha of this pack. He was only the most dominate one here. "Who the fuck are you?" Jordan sneered at him. The forgotten girl in the sand shimmied back slowly while the wolves stared David down. When she was far enough away and still no one had noticed her absence, she jumped to her feet and ran off into the night.

David smirked. "Animal Control." Jordan had either never smelled a vampire before or was completely stupid because he snarled and leapt for David's throat.

He was gone. There was only the echo of David's laughter and a dip in the sand where he had been standing milliseconds before. Jordan jerked to a shocked halt and reeled frantically around. The wolves behind him huddled their backs together and scanned the darkness warily. A shadow appeared suddenly beside Jordan and whispered his name. He cursed and swiped, catching the shadow by the neck and smashing him into the sand. But once again there was nothing there.

Three sharp cracks and thuds broke the silence behind Jordan. He looked back over his shoulder and gaped at what he saw there. David had broken three of the necks of his friends that had been huddled together, leaving only one petrified wolf standing.

"Chance! What the f–" David materialized out of the night behind Jordan and cranked his head all the way around before he even finished his sentence. As Jordan's body fell limply to the ground, he made his way over to the quivering werewolf who now stank of piss and fear with a deceptively friendly smile.

"So, Chance," he said as he came to a stop in front of him. "I want you to give a message to your Alpha. Think you can you do that?"

Chance nodded quickly.

"Good boy," David chuckled. "I want you to tell him…" he paused, and for the first time since he had started following the werewolves, he allowed the human guise to drop, "to keep his filthy dogs off of _my_ boardwalk," he sneered. The trembling wolf quickly fell to his knees under the weight of David's command, head bowed.

David smirked and let the change slip away. He looked at the down at the dead werewolves scattered around lying in their own filth before looking back at Chance. "And clean this place up, will ya." As the cowed wolf jumped to do his bidding, David disappeared into the welcoming dark of the night.

v—v

**A/N**: Have you ever had a creative itch that you just can't scratch? Something that crawls into your mind, burrows in, and just won't leave? Well that's what this story was for me.

For a week after watching _The Lost Boys_, I couldn't do anything else but think about this story. So I sat down one evening and BAM! Plot outlined and first chapter written! I would like to apologize to any authors in advance who might find my story similar to theirs. I'm new to _The Lost Boys _fanfiction fandom, so any similarities are purely coincidence. Though I sincerely hope that I'm not copying anyone's story!

Now, how did you enjoy the first chapter? I apologize if it ended a bit abruptly, there wasn't a really good spot to end it, so I kind of just cut it off there.

You may have picked up on the little bit about David being able to manipulate the air. I know that it seemed to most people that vampires could just fly in _The Lost Boys_, but my interpretation is that they could manipulate the air to carry them. Did anyone else always notice how the wind would pick up _before_ they arrived or the fact that things that wouldn't be affected by someone simply flying in through a window would move? Yeah, so vampires can manipulate air! Yay!

During the werewolf fight, you may have noticed I mentioned David "melting out of the shadows". This is something I decided vampires could do. They can essentially blend into the shadows so well that they become a shadow themselves. It's both a physical skill and a mental one depending on the vampire's competence level. David is very good with manipulating the mind, so he is able to make Jordan believe that he has 'captured' him, when in actuality he had already left his side. And that's shadow meld.

Any inaccuracies when David is thinking about everyone's deaths are entirely purposeful. This is from David's POV and he never knew that it was Sam who got the Frogs to help out, so he's just blaming it all on Michael. And yes, I did have him kill off Michael, Star, Sam, and the Frog Brothers. It's what would have happened had David lived – we should ALL know that. It also kind of plays into my story, but that'll be made clear later.

And as it says in the summary, this will be an eventual David/OC, but it will be focusing on David's confrontations with the gang in control of Santa Carla now. The romance will be there, but it's _David_. You know: cool, commanding, and arrogant. So don't go expecting anything remotely romantic any time soon.

Oh and I have modernized David's appearance a little. I'd imagine that he would. After all, his goal is always to be the coolest guy in the room and he couldn't very well do that with a mullet. (Though I must say, he does pull of the mullet _very _well.) I will be posting an ink sketch of my version of modern David on DeviantArt later if anyone wants to take a look. My names the same on there, so just look up KestrelMoonfayre and you'll have me!

Anyway, I've blabbered on long enough (if you even bothered to read this).

Ciao!


End file.
